


Just Crowley

by Davechicken



Series: Angel & Snake [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bondage, Crowley Has Two Penises (Good Omens), M/M, Restraints, Sex with Snake Form Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: After an open invitation, Crowley wakes Aziraphale up for some... less than regular Missionary work.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Angel & Snake [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676680
Comments: 26
Kudos: 263





	Just Crowley

**Author's Note:**

> Author is stir crazy at home, please enjoy the fruits of my frustration. Comments are catnip and make me write more ;)

Aziraphale could feel the light peeking into the room, and it was nice. So long as it wasn’t glaring and blocking your view, sunlight was always a wonderful thing. Right now, it caressed his cheeks between the slight draft that caught the blinds, and as he stirred, he realised other things were caressing him.

Other, warm, heavy things. Across his belly. And thighs. And… his eyes opened and found familiar, whiskey-golden ones, but closer together and around a less-familiar snout. 

Crowley looked like the first time they’d met. Or, the first time they’d properly met, and introduced one another. A strong, triangular face with clever eyes, trailing down into a thick, looping, undulating body. 

Currently, said body wound over his own, almost mimicking the mark he wore on his more human presentation. The tail was an occasional thud into the sheets, then he zig-zagged his way up, with loops that landed on either side and then raced left and right. He was under the covers, next to bare skin, and the only part really visible was from… well, from the angel’s chest upwards. But the shape of him was very, very obvious under the fine, Egyptian cotton. 

“Good morning, my dear,” he greeted, reaching out with a crooked finger to run a knuckle along his cheek. 

Snake mouths were not made for talking, not with human languages, but Crowley knew how to make himself understood to the angel all the same. 

_Do you need more ressst?_

Snakes did not blink. Crowley instead let his tongue poke out and pushed into the finger, head tilting a little away, clearly testing the waters. 

“Not when I have you, I don’t,” he replied instead. “You look very dashing this morning.”

Snakes could not blush, so Crowley instead butted his hand under the wrist petting him, and slithered his very front along the arm. Under his armpit, wedging below the angel like he expected to burrow below. 

Aziraphale used his other hand to push himself up enough, and then there was a sure rush of scales around the back of his neck and shoulders, and Crowley had looped under them, to prop his head on the other side. It was like having his own, breathing travel pillow, and it was oddly nice. 

_You sssaid you might… want to be… entangled?_

Ah, damn, but the curious, cautious hope, combined with his own, over-active imagination… Aziraphale’s hips shuffled at the tingle it sent to his lap. “I very much enjoy your embrace. And I would love to embrace you like this.”

He lifted one hand, running it over Crowley’s flexible spine. He could feel the ribs, the strong muscles that rippled just below. Dry. Warm. Agile. Powerful. Bigger than anything except those faked up fossils he was sure the demon had created as a joke, and no less beautiful.

He wasn’t a snake. Wasn’t a human, either. Wasn’t an angel any more, and only technically a demon. He (and occasionally she), was… just Crowley. The same fierce, hungry intelligence and curiosity sparkled in those eyes. The same… throbbing sense of vibrant existence. The same love, the same self. It was no different from seeing him in new clothes, except… maybe this was better. Clothes were a chosen decoration, but the real thing below - in any form - was actually him. 

The tongue tasted at his cheek, at his lips, as he followed the pattern of scales that shifted like hot sands under his touch. A little ticklish in places, it seemed, and he filed that information away for later. 

_You will sssay, if I am too… tight?_

“Oh, **yes**.”

Not that he expected he could be. Aziraphale felt flexion and movement, and the body beneath his shoulders hefted him up. The predator’s gaze honed in on him, face-to-face, just far enough away for him to focus. He didn’t dare look down, but he was incredibly aware of every place they touched as his hands were nudged to his sides, and loops coiled around him like a candy being wrapped in shiny paper. 

Around his chest, where his heartbeat was suddenly loud. Around his waist, where his wrists were pushed into his sides. Around his hips, delicately pushing his cock and balls down and trapped. Under his ass, all around his thighs. A living rope that twined itself about him, like Caduceus’ staff. 

How fitting, he thought. Aesclypius had seen both sides. He’d declared the female more fun, but he hadn’t had a Crowley to show him anything and everything could be fun if you wanted it.

When the demon was done, Aziraphale was swaddled. He could breathe, and twitch, and wriggle, but he could do little else. His fingers and toes were the least restricted, and when he took a deep breath, it felt like it was pushed the last of the way out by an ever-decreasing circle. Warm. Tight. Secure. 

It wasn’t like corestry, which had also been enjoyable in a way. Being made to feel every bit of you, until suddenly the support became a second nature. It was… intimate, and… personal. He was entirely at his demon’s mercy, and he began to relax and drift. Not to sleep, but just… just to feel. 

_Not too tight?_

“No… more, please…. More?”

Head and tail worked in opposite directions, wringing over him like he was a dish-rag, or maybe something much more precious. Like hands lathing wood, or shaping pottery. He giggled at the image, and took the deepest breath in he could to make his body swell, and feel even tighter. 

Oh, damn. Why did it feel that good? He knew he couldn’t really (could, but also couldn’t) escape. Knew he was totally helpless. Didn’t feel any fear, just… calm. Good. Buzzy, blurry, sweet… and the sliding contact with his trapped cock was a delicious, slow torment. 

The loop of snake there wasn’t moving enough, but Aziraphale had so very little control. He could beg, but would it help? He couldn’t touch himself - or Crowley - only breathe and puff and flex. And try, by tightening his thighs and groin, to get a little bit of friction where he needed it most.

_Are you needing sssomething, angel?_

“Mmmmm. You,” he confirmed, feeling his grin get wider. “Please, Crowley.”

_Pleasse…. what?_

He could play coy. Could tease, or refuse, but… for one, he didn’t feel like being difficult. For two he didn’t want Crowley to lose his nerve. And for three, it felt too damn good to be a shit right now.

“Please… take me, my dearest one… please… I…. I need you.”

_Like… thisss?_

His cock twitched so hard that he was sure he felt the snake equivalent of a chuckle, and he whined as the rubbing moved to firm ripples over his balls and the base of his shaft. He couldn’t rut, couldn’t touch, grab, take… and the licking over his nipples between tilts of that damnably pretty head… 

“Crowley, please!”

Another twist, and the pressure at his balls changed. The pattern was different, and he was aware of some form of… divot? Hole? Something… He wondered if Crowley was actually female right now, and planning to use him as her own fuck-toy, which would also be good. 

Everything was good. Crowley was good. He could say he wasn’t until he was blue in the face, but the angel knew better and suddenly he could feel the tip of his cock sliding into something. Into… oh, they had everything internal, didn’t they? Would he even know what he was entering? As his cockhead vanished past softer skin, and into somewhere tight, and ringed with scales. 

Crowley was fucking himself on the angel’s trapped cock. Grinding the head of it into the edge, and was that where the snake’s erogenous zone mostly was? Or was Crowley mimicking a human female? And - NOPE. Not female. He could feel things the deeper he was taken, things that started to rub against him, as Crowley used Aziraphale’s dick to fuck his own cloaca and ease out the two penises that he’d kept tucked inside.

It was, indeed, very nice. Sliding between them both, in such a tight, warm, dark space. Being used as if he were nothing more than a dildo, but caught between twin members and enjoying every last moment. It went on interminably long, and then he was pushed steadily back out of the snake’s body by the shafts that grew firmer and firmer, and then dragged over his belly instead.

He was… utterly at Crowley’s mercy. And it was - it was sublime! His jaw was slack, his eyes dazed, and he just let the moment stretch further, and further.

Let the coils twist, and the one around his throat bear down just a little more. Enough to make breathing a slight struggle, a conscious awareness of how fragile a human body really was.

Oh yes! Aziraphale pushed his nails into his thighs, as the firmness moved further back. Rubbing, and gliding, and was he still ready, from last night? Either Crowley was releasing something, or pulling some other miracle, but there was a sticky, goopy, heady feeling between his cheeks. He could do nothing but try to bear down as there was a pressure between them, grinding and sliding until the thrusting worked. Until he felt the stretch - so much! SO MUCH - and then the relief as the first shaft pushed in. 

The base was even rougher than last time they’d played about with this kind of anatomy in any way, and it was like… scratching at an itch. Making his teeth sing. Making his toes scrunch. Aziraphale tried to roll himself lower over the cock, but then the demon had other ideas.

His other cock pushed, prodded, thrust at his entrance. He was already so full he might explode, and he thought he could take more? The angel whined, head dropping back, as another wave of tension knotted up his gut. 

Could he take it? Without cheating? Could his body really accept the - very very sudden thrust, push, shunt, that made him howl out in pained, glorious bliss and glee. 

Both of them, inside. Coils that held him still and rolled the locked parts tighter. Pleasure in waves, in tsunamis. Aziraphale’s eyes rolled up as he was dashed apart by the tides against the clever, clever body of his snake of a love. 

There was little room for thrusting, but the squeezing loops that bound him up made his insides clench, and tugged throbbing pleasure from his groin. Tight across the throat, then soft, then tight. He was coasting on the never-ending stimulation when those eyes sparkled.

Sparkled, and the head turned and moved. Hungry serpent-strike, and then he felt the tongue steal out and thrust unambiguously and unannounced into his already-leaking slit. 

Aziraphale cried out, and spasmed, and knotted and tensed and thrashed and felt the unmistakable rush of release inside of him. There was a tongue pushed into his dick, down as far as it could go, and his ass was locked around the gift of both demon dicks exploding into him at once. 

It was too much, much too much, and he realised with some mortification that he’d started to cry. Not because of anything negative, but just because it was all so, so much. So overwhelming, so powerful, so bright and fierce and loving and safe and good and… he cried, as the demon pulled his tongue out and the coils kneaded his balls until the release gave him the place to come. 

Come, and tighten, and pant as he felt the swollen cocks inside him release, too. The scent was rich, ripe, and made his head giddier still (or was that because every loop had rictus-closed in on him?), as the demon found his climax. 

Not that they could part any time soon. He was sure his ass wouldn’t relax enough to let him, and every little after-shock was… it was like new fireworks in his head, his balls, his cock, his heart, his ass, his… everything. 

It was incredible. And as he relaxed into it, he was still kept in coils, in knots. Still held safe and secure. Still loved, even with his brains fucked clean out. 

He hummed in contentment. It was good. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, knowing what this had meant to Crowley, as well as to himself. 

_Sssee if you still want to thank me tomorrow._

A loop loosened, and he worked a hand out to just slide over the black-and-red scales. 

“Every day until the end of eternity,” he promised, and felt another twitch in his ass in response. “You spoil me. You really do.”

 _Wasssn’t so bad for me, either_. 

As the snake’s dicks were still idly clicking and ticking and throbbing in him, he could tell. He’d never been so… prolonged in his orgasms before. Not when not female, anyway. Aziraphale smugly clenched, and felt the tongue that tickled his cheekbone in response. 

“Then let me say, resoundingly, that you can wake me up this way any time you so desire.” Hmm. “Or put me to sleep. Or visit for lunch, or…”

 _Sssexual deviant_.

He was. And it was wonderful.


End file.
